My Favorite Color is Blood
by suicidalunicorn97
Summary: Set shortly after Dean gets out of Hell. He is plagued by nightmares and flashbacks, and resorts to self-harm. Trigger Warning for self harm and PTSD and suicidal thoughts. (UPDATE: changed the rating to M for smut in future chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

_I deserve this._

Dean thought to himself as he dragged the blade across the scarred skin of his forearm.

For 30 years in Hell, he had told Alastair to stick it where the sun shines.

But one day, he couldn't take it anymore. He got off the torture rack, and started putting souls on.

The awful, horrible things he had done...there were no words. But worst of all, he had enjoyed it. A sin greater than the crime itself. He could never make up for what he'd done. He could never make it right.

But with every cut he gave himself, he felt a little better. He needed to punish himself.

But was it really punishment? After all, his favorite color was blood.

* * *

Sam watched his brother toss and turn, muttering in his sleep. Another nightmare. He debated on whether or not to wake Dean, but decided against it. Dean hadn't slept in days. He'd been running on adrenaline and caffeine. He'd finally passed out on Bobby's couch.

Sam checked his watch. 2:30 in the afternoon. Dean had only been asleep for half an hour, and already his mind was attacking him.

"You gonna wake him up?" Bobby walked in from the kitchen.

"If it gets worse."

Bobby sighed. "Poor kid."

"Yeah,"

Just then, Dean started thrashing around, half-screaming Sam's name, and begging for help.

Sam shot forward, and started shaking his brother's shoulders. "Dean, wake up! Dean!"

The older Winchester's eyes flew open, and Sam could see the terror leave his eyes as he saw where he was. "Sammy?" Dean was clutching his brothers sleeve, clinging to him as if he was the only connection to reality.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm here. You're safe."

Sam hated seeing his big brother like this. He'd always been the strong one.

 _But that was before Hell..._

* * *

 **Hey guys, just a little author's note. I'm working on two stories at the same time. No, I haven't given up on Carry on my Wayward Daughter :)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright, what do we got?" Dean absently scratched at the healing cuts under his sleeve. They were in Bobby's kitchen, going over a possible case in a nearby town.

"Dunno yet. Bunch of graves dug up, corpses missin'. Could be a hundred things."

"When did it start?" Sam asked, digging around in the fridge for a drink.

"Well, it's been happenin' about every ten years, give or take a couple months. Dates back to 1964."

"Hmm..." Sam shut the fridge and glanced at Dean. "We're out of beer."

"Again?" Bobby asked incredulously. "Dammit Dean, how much you been drinkin'?"

"Come on, it's not just me."

"Yeah, but Bobby and I have like two a day. It's 10 AM and you're on your second bottle." Sam pointed out.

Dean ignored the concern in his brother's voice. "Fine. I'll go get more hunter's helper. While I'm out, I'll go over to Renner and check out the empty graves, see what info I can get from the locals."

"You sure you should be drivin'?"

Sam laughed. "Don't worry, Bobby. I'm not sure he can even get drunk anymore."

"Shut up, Sam. Sure I can! Just takes a hell of a lot more than two beers." He headed for the door. "You two do the usual drill, hack into police reports, all that fun stuff. Call me if you find anything weird."

* * *

It was only a twenty minute drive, but Dean felt his mind wandering to dark places. What if he just crashed his car? He could make his death look like an accident. Or blame it on demons.

No, he couldn't do that to Baby.

He sighed. He belonged in Hell. He deserved to be tortured. The next time around, he wouldn't get off the rack. He'd stay on, and let Alistair do his worst. Screw the angels and their plan. They wouldn't tell him what it was anyway. They could find someone else.

He made it to Renner, and parked the Impala just outside the Cemetery. As he made his way to the area marked off by crime scene tape, he let his gaze sweep over the many graves. Each one represented a soul. Who knew how many he had tortured...

Upon reaching the empty graves, he immediately noted that they had been cracked from the outside in. Alright, so at least the dead weren't rising out of their own accord. The next thing that caught his attention was a grayish solution that pooled around the coffins. Embalming fluid. So the corpses had been cracked open. Interesting.

Suddenly he noticed a woman wearing a dirty white dress standing off in the trees a few yards away. Oookay, that wasn't creepy at all...She smiled at him, and then disappeared. Definitely worth checking out.

He cautiously walked over to the small grove of trees, hand on his gun. The woman stepped out from behind a large bush. Before he had time to say or do anything, he was struck by a blinding, white-hot pain in the side of his head. Then it all went dark.

* * *

 _5:30 PM_

"Hey, don't you think Dean should have called by now?"

Bobby snorted. "Most likely, he's in a bar. Probably lost track of time."

Sam dialed Dean's number. It rang, but went to voicemail. "Huh. That's weird."

"Might just have his phone off."

"No, it actually rang. He just didn't pick up. That's not a good sign."

Bobby frowned. "You're right." He grabbed his keys. "Okay, let's go save the idjit."

* * *

"Eat dirt and die, bitch!"

For the last six hours, Dean had been chained to a table in what he assumed was a crypt under the cemetery. He'd woken up, dizzy and disoriented. He'd spent five hours trying to escape, but the iron shackles they had him in were too strong. His cell phone was no where in sight. Even if it was, there was a slim chance he'd get reception here.

An hour ago, the ghouls had finally shown their ugly faces. They'd been taunting him, trying to make him afraid. Apparently they were sick of dead meat, and wanted to step up their game. And the rumor was that fear made humans taste extra-yummy.

"Language! Is that any way to talk to a lady?" One of the ghouls feigned offense.

"You're no lady. You're an ugly, two faced bitch. I know you change into whatever rotting corpse you ate last." Dean laughed. No matter what they did to him, they couldn't make him afraid. He wasn't afraid of pain, and certainly not of death. He was already dead inside.

She sighed. "I'm getting impatient. Let's just eat him."

"Sounds like a plan." The male drew a knife from his belt.

Dean should have felt scared and vulnerable. After all, he was laying spread-eagled on a cement table, and chained so he was basically motionless. He was about to die. But he couldn't have cared less. Hell, he was actually excited about it. This just meant he wouldn't have to do it himself.

The ghoul jerked Dean's sleeve up to his elbow, and looked surprised. "Well, what have we here?"

The female stepped closer to take a look. She saw the many cuts and scars and laughed. "Looks like you got started without us, honey."

"Shut your damn mouths and finish the job already."

"This is an unexpected turn of events. Kinda takes the fun out of it."

"I said finish it!" Dean spat. The more time passed, the greater his chances of being rescued.

She shrugged. "If you insist."

They positioned a bowl under each wrist to catch the falling blood. "Are you ready to die?" The ghoul whispered into his ear.

"You have no fucking idea."

The ghouls shared a sadistic smile, and started bleeding him. A vertical cut spanning from his wrist to his elbow. God, it hurt so bad. Dean felt himself laughing. This is exactly what he'd been planning to do if he didn't die on a hunt soon. The irony was awesome.

My god, the cuts were so deep...the beautiful red blood flowed freely into the bowls. Dean felt his vision start to go dark around the edges. He smiled and closed his eyes. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.

As if on cue, Sam and Bobby came crashing through the ceiling. Bobby landed on one of the ghouls, and Sam started taking out the other.

"No!" Dean felt a scream rise up out of his throat. No, no...he had to die...

* * *

While doing their research, Sam and Bobby had discovered that an old crypt lay underneath the cemetery. They found the nearest opening, which just happened to be above where Dean was being held.

Sam gasped when he saw his brother chained to a table, blood gushing out of his wrists. The minute Dean saw him, he didn't look relieved, as he should have been. Instead, he looked disappointed. "No!" A heart-wrenching cry came from Dean's weak body.

Sam was confused. Why didn't Dean want to be saved?

"Sam, they're ghouls!" Bobby yelled.

Right. That meant headshot.

The hunters quickly incapacitated the creatures with a shotgun to the head, then turned their attention to Dean.

He was unconscious now, barely breathing. "Shit..." Sam swore, ripping a section of his shirt for a tourniquet.

Bobby did the same. "We gotta get him to a hospital, Sam."

* * *

Bobby sped the whole way to the hospital. Sam spent the 20 minute drive in the backseat, cradling Dean's head in his lap and trying to put as much pressure on the wounds as he could without hurting his brother even more.

"Keep holding on, don't you die on me again." Sam's voice broke. He'd just gotten Dean back, he couldn't lose him again...

Upon reaching the ER, Dean was wheeled into surgery immediately. Bobby and Sam waited anxiously in the lobby.

To Sam's surprise, No cops came out asking what had happened. Normally they would be all over the place, asking questions about how the boys had obtained their injuries.

 _An hour later_

"Sam...Afromian?" Sam jumped out of his seat at the sound of the fake name he was using.

"Doc, how is he?"

"Physically, he'll be fine. He lost a lot of blood, but he'll heal."

"Wait, what do you mean physically?"

"Mr. Afromian, were you aware that your brother has been self-harming? Or that he was suicidal?"

Sam froze. They think Dean did this to himself. No wonder they hadn't come asking questions. Well, they could use this to their advantage.

"I...I mean he's been depressed, but I never thought he'd do this to himself..."

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "It often comes as a shock to those closest to the victims of depression. They learn to hide it well. We recommend he stay with us for a minimum of a week. We'll keep him on suicide watch, and make sure his injuries heal."

"Thanks. Can we see him now?" Bobby asked.

"Sure thing. He'll be out for a little longer though, he's still coming out of the anesthesia."

They followed the doctor to Dean's room, and Sam pulled up a chair by his brother's side. He looked at the bandages, but then noticed something odd...

Above the bandage were several smaller cuts and scars. Some of them looked fresh, but not new enough to have been inflicted by the ghouls. And they were in a straight line...a pattern...they looked so deliberate.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he realized what they were. He put together the pieces. Dean's constant drinking. The nightmares. How he had yelled "no" when being rescued.

" _were you aware that your brother has been self-harming?"_

Dean didn't want to be saved...

And that broke Sam's heart more than anything.


	3. Chapter 3

"Bobby", Sam called the older man over. "Take a look at these..."

Bobby took one look at the healing cuts and scars on Dean's arm, and frowned.

"Please tell me it's not what it looks like," Sam felt sick.

Bobby looked as heartbroken as Sam. "I don't wanna believe it either, but it's not all that surprisin'. We shoulda seen the signs earlier."

"Yeah," Sam couldn't believe that his big brother would take a blade to his own skin. He always seemed so strong. He couldn't imagine what hell had been like. It had definitely changed Dean. Sam watched him sleeping. He noted the dark circles under his eyes. How thin Dean had become.

They were together 24/7! He knew something was wrong. He'd seen the drinking and nightmares, but he never saw this coming.

Dean had been self-destructing for months, and Sam hadn't done anything about it. He felt so guilty...

* * *

Dean awoke from a tortured sleep filled with dreams of Hell. The first thing he became aware of was the pain. His arms were burning...maybe he was in Hell after all. Bu then he heard the familiar sound of a heart monitor beeping steadily. Smelled the hospital-antiseptic scent.

Fuck. He was still alive.

He groaned and blinked against the harsh white light.

"He's waking up. Dean!"

He heard Sam's voice. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw his brother and Bobby hovering over him, concern evident on their faces.

"Hey," He said hoarsely. "You gank the ghouls?"

"Yeah. Not before they did a number on you though. But it looks like you did a number on yourself first..."

Dean started to panic. Sam knew? He looked down, and saw that the bandages didn't cover all the scars. His weakness was visible for everyone to see. The heart monitor started beeping faster as his anxiety climbed. Sammy couldn't know. No one could know...

"Hey, hey, calm down." Sam grabbed Dean's hand. "It's okay, you're okay. I'm not mad."

Dean shook his head. "You don't understand."

"Help me understand, De!" Sam looked like he was close to tears. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "How I feel...this...inside me, there aren't words."

"You can't just shoulder this thing alone...let me help."

"How? Do you really think a little heart-to-heart, some sharing and caring, is gonna change anything? Somehow...heal me?" He laughed bitterly. "I deserve it. I deserve it all. Cas should have left me in Hell."

"Don't say that. We need you, Dean. I need you." Sam's voice broke.

"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean whispered. "The things I saw in Hell...there is no forgetting. There is no making it better. Because it is right here," He gestured to his head. "Forever. You wouldn't understand. And I could never make you understand."

"We're gonna get you help, boy." Bobby said determinedly.

"I don't want help. Dean declared in a quiet but firm voice.

As if on cue, the doctor came in. "Sam? May I speak with you?"

"Sure thing."

* * *

Sam stepped out into the hall with the doctor. "Have you thought about admitting your brother to our psychiatric ward?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Doc. What if he didn't mean to cut so deep? I mean, what if he wasn't trying to kill himself?" Sam was in denial. After all, it had been the ghouls who'd sliced his wrists open, not Dean himself.

"Those cuts looked really deliberate. They were almost certainly intended to be fatal. But even if your brother wasn't trying to commit suicide, he still needs help. From the looks of it, he's been self harming often, quite possibly every day, for months. He's probably addicted to it." The doctor paused. "Also, his blood-alcohol level was unusually high. My guess is that he numbs the pain by drinking as well."

Sam felt overwhelmed. He knew Dean needed help, but admitting him to the psych ward was not gonna cut it. If Dean started talking about Hell and monsters, they'd never let him out.

"I don't think he'd do well in a psych ward. I think I'll just find him a therapist he can meet with one-on-one."

The doctor smiled. "Of course. Whatever you feel is best for your brother. We do have a 48-hour suicide watch policy though, so he'll need to stay here for the next two days."

* * *

The nest two days seemed to drag on. Dean was dying for a drink. He was dying to cut. He was dying in every way except the way he wanted to.

* * *

 **Hi guys! Next chapter is gonna include some Castiel. (I don't ship Destiel, so sorry, but none of that.) Ideas are welcome! Please drop a review :) (also, still working on Carry on my Wayward Daughter. Check it out.)**


	4. Chapter 4

Finally the 48 hours were up. Dean was more than ready to blow this joint. The nurses weren't even hot.

The ride back to Bobby's house was awkward. This whole damn thing was awkward. Sam and Bobby didn't know how to act around him. No one knew what to say. Things were just...weird.

The first thing Dean did upon arrival was make a beeline to the fridge. He opened it, anxious to have a drink. But all the alcohol was gone!

"Hey, uh, Bobby, we're out of Hunter's Helper."

"And?"

"And we need more!" He reached into his pocket for the Impala's keys before realizing that Sam had them.

"Sammy!" Dean stormed into the living room. "Keys. Now."

His brother just looked at him. "You need to dry out, Dean."

"Like Hell! Listen, Sam, you don't need to babysit me."

* * *

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Suddenly they noticed Castiel. He was standing awkwardly in the corner.

"Actually-"

"Actually nothing. What is it, Cas?"

"There have been demonic omens all over Sioux City. I was surprised that you three have done nothing about it thus far." For the first time, Cas seemed to notice that Dean's wrists were still bandaged. He frowned. "You are injured. Let me heal you."

The angel made a move forward to touch Dean, but he dodged. "There's a demon in town and nobody bothered to tell me? Or hell, take care of it your damn selves?"

"We were a little preoccupied, Dean."

Castiel looked confused. "Am I missing something?"

Sam said 'sort of' at the same time Dean spat 'none of your damn business'.

"We've got a demon on our hands. Can we please just stow the couples therapy and focus on that?" He left the room, muttering something about going to pack rock salt into shotgun shells.

Bobby shot Sam a helpless glance and followed.

Sam rubbed his temples. Maybe they should've put Dean in the psych ward.

"Is Dean alright?" Castiel asked quietly.

"No." Sam didn't feel like going into detail, but he figured that the angel deserved to know. He was the closest thing Dean had to a friend. Maybe he could make a difference.

"Dean is...depressed. He's been cutting himself. I-I think he wants to die." Sam's voice broke on the last word. Saying it out loud...made it feel even more real. He didn't want to believe it.

Cas was silent, his expression hard to read. "Why?" he finally asked.

"I don't know, I think it has something to do with what happened in Hell. He said you should have left him there."

"Why would he think that? I can't imagine it was a pleasant experience."

"He feels guilty about torturing all those souls."

"Oh," Cas nodded. "That would make sense. But he held out longer than anyone could have. I don't blame him."

"Neither do I, but he blames himself."

"That is unfortunate." Cas shuffled his feet uncomfortably, looking unsure. "Maybe I could...talk to him."

"I think that's a good idea. Cause he sure as hell isn't listening to me." Sam said, frustrated.

* * *

Bobby and Dean sat in the basement, packing rock salt into shotgun shells. Neither of them knew what to say, so there was just an awkward silence. Dean's internal voice was screaming at him to cut, but he was almost certain Bobby wouldn't let him out of sight.

But he needed it.

He stood up, and so did Bobby, looking at him questioningly.

"What? You seriously gonna follow me everywhere?"

"If that's what it takes."

"If that's what it takes to what?! Keep me from killing myself? Maybe you've forgotten that I didn't slit my wrists, the ghouls did. That whole thing at the hospital was just for the doctor's sake, to explain it. I'm not actually suicidal." He lied.

"These for the doctor's sake too?" Bobby grabbed Dean's arm, gesturing to the many other cuts and scars. "You just been preparin' to get jumped by ghouls and you wanted to make sure no emergency room would ask questions? Bullshit."

"Think what you want." Dean started to leave.

"Where do you think you're goin'?"

"To take a leak, geez."

Bobby didn't look convinced, but he let it go.

For the first time in two days, Dean had some privacy. He let out a sigh of relief. Fucking finally. He locked himself in the bathroom and started to look for something to cut with. To his dismay, Sam and Bobby had removed all sharp objects.

Come on...This was Bobby's house. He had to have a hidden blade in every room. The man was paranoid as hell.

He started looking closer, searching for a loose tile or something. He was rewarded for his efforts by finding a false bottom in a drawer. Bingo. There lay a large hunting knife. This would do.

He took it out, looking at it almost reverently. Now to cut somewhere they wouldn't notice. He lifted up his shirt and was about to make a small cut on his hip when he heard a voice behind him.

"Are you going to cut yourself?"

"Jesus, Cas!" He yelped. "You can't just spy on people when they're in the john. That's a whole new level of creepy."

"My apologies." Cas tilted his head. "I can read your thoughts, you know. They aren't good thoughts."

"Dude, get out of my head." Dean felt violated.

"I need to make sure you aren't going to kill yourself."

"Why, so I can be a part of your whole top-secret angel plan?"

The angel looked slightly hurt. "I suppose. But I also consider you a friend."

Dean sighed. "I'm sorry. But seriously, get out. This is wrong."

"We can talk outside."

"You're not gonna leave me alone, are you?"

"I'm afraid not. Please give me the knife." Cas held out his hand.

Dean felt like he was drowning. "Please, Cas. I need it. I'm not suicidal. I just...I need this, okay?"

"You are lying. You want to die. I can sense the hopelessness and despair. It radiates from you."

"Just cause I want to doesn't mean I'm actually gonna do it."

"Humans are impulsive and unpredictable creatures."

"Dammit." Dean swore. He made a split second decision. He needed to cut. Even if it was just one before the angel wrestled the blade away from him. He needed this.

Cas was by his side in an instant, before Dean could even move. He forced the blade from Dean's hand and slipped it into a pocket of his trench coat.

"You are not exactly proving me wrong, Dean."

"Stop reading my fucking thoughts!" Dean exploded. "I swear. You, Sam, Bobby...you're treating me like a kid. I know what I'm doing. I'm not stupid."

"I...never said you were."

Dean pushed past Castiel and stormed out of the bathroom. He went straight for the back door, quickly leaving before anyone could follow him.

* * *

Sam watched from the window, and made a move to follow.

"Don't." Cas put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "He needs some time to himself."

"I can't just leave him alone. He'll kill himself."

"I will follow him and stop him if he tries anything."

"Thanks, Cas." As the angel vanished, leaned against the counter, feeling drained.

What were they gonna do with Dean?


	5. Chapter 5

Dean felt naked without a blade or a gun. He walked halfway to town before he even realized that Sam still had his wallet. _Damn it._

Suddenly he had an idea. Sherriff Jody Mills lived pretty close. She always welcomed the boys in for a beer. And there was no shortage of weapons in her house...

He was at her door in under ten minutes. As expected, she greeted him with a smile and invited him in for a drink.

"Dean! Good to see you. Where's Sam? Hardly ever see you two apart."

"He's back at Bobby's place, hittin' the books. We got a demon problem."

"Again?" Jody sighed. "Seems like that's all there is these days."

She handed him a beer, and he grinned. He popped the top and started chugging it like a man dying of thirst.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Mhmm." He made a vague noise of affirmation, not bothering to take his lips from the bottle.

"Alright then... Why don't you take your jacket off? It's like 80 degrees in here."

He wiped his mouth, having downed the entire bottle in under a minute. "Nah, I'm fine." He said breathlessly.

"I can see you sweating from here."

"I said I was fine." He countered defensively.

She backed off. "O-kay..."

"Can I use your bathroom?"

* * *

Dean left Jody in the living room and wandered down the hall. But instead of going into the bathroom, he turned to the right and locked himself in her armory. Guns and knives lined the walls.

 _Thank God._

He took off his jacket, ripped the bandages from his wrists, and chose his blade. It was a beautiful dagger. Perfect size and weight. It felt so good to know that he was in control again...

He started cutting. He didn't care that Jody was in the other room. He didn't care that Cas was probably watching. He didn't care if he died. All that mattered was the blood. The beautiful crimson blood that was flowing from his veins. Bleeding out his sins...

He fell into a steady rhythm. _cut. cut. cut._

His hands were shaking. _cut. cut. cut._

"Dean!" He heard the angel's voice, but it seemed a million miles away.

 _He was on the floor now. How did that happen?_

"Dean, hold on."

 _Everything was a red haze..._

"Cas, let me die..." He whispered before fading into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

"What the hell, Cas?!" Sam was furious. "You said you were gonna make sure he didn't do anything stupid!"

They were in Jody's spare bedroom, watching an unconscious Dean breathing steadily. Cas had healed him, but he was still weak from blood loss.

"It all happened so fast...I-I observed that he was happier when he cut himself. I thought if I let him make just one cut, that he would feel better. I didn't know he would cut so much..." Castiel looked ashamed.

Jody crossed her arms. "What are we gonna do now? And how long has this been going on?"

Bobby couldn't look her in the eye. "Months."

" _Months?_ And you didn't tell me?"

"We found out about it less than a week ago."

She looked shocked. "You're with him all the time, Sam. How did you not notice?"

"We both wear layers a lot." Sam realized how lame the excuse sounded as soon as it left his lips.

Sherriff Mills scoffed. "You both wear layers a lot, huh? Okay."

"It does not matter now." Castiel was staring at Dean, his eyes unfocused. "We have to help him."

"I know. But how?" Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"Um-well, we could uh..." Cas stuttered.

"Yeah. That's pretty much all I got too."

Jody shook her head. "I think all we can do is be here for him. Let him know we care. Keep him from killing himself until he doesn't want to anymore."

"Best plan I've heard yet." Bobby muttered.

"S-Sammy...Sammy, help!" They turned their attention to Dean, who was clutching the sheets with a death grip, his knuckles white.

Sam dropped to his knees beside the bed, and shook his brother's shoulders. "Dean! Dean, wake up."

The older Winchester's eyes shot open, and he calmed down as he realized that he was safe. His body relaxed, and he fell back against the mattress.

"It's okay, Dee. Everything is gonna be okay." Sam was choking back tears. Dean was all he had. It was breaking his heart to see the tough, 'give 'em hell' attitude replaced by this...

He felt so helpless as he tried not to look at the scars littering Dean's arms. Evidence of how much his big brother was hurting.

How could he fix what was broken?


	7. Chapter 7

"Dean,"

"Don't 'Dean' me, I'm going on this hunt."

"But-"

"Dammit, Sam! I'm still a hunter. There's something to hunt. So I am going to hunt it."

"You are not coming with us."

"You too?" Dean was ready to start throwing punches. "Come on, Cas. Let's use every man we got. It's the smart thing to do."

"I'm sorry, Dean. But we cannot trust you."

That hurt. He wouldn't let them know, but it hit home.

Bobby must have seen it. "No offense, boy. But we can't afford to be savin' your dumb ass every other minute. You've already proven you don't care about your safety. We ain't gonna let you die. We're not sayin' we don't trust your huntin' abilities; you're one of the best damn hunters I've ever known. But takin' a man with a death wish on a hunt is a bad idea. Puts all our asses on the line.

"Fine. So what, you'll just lock me in the panic room?"

"Yes."

"Jesus, Cas, I was joking!"

"Well I'm not."

* * *

"Seriously, guys?!" Dean yelled from the inside of the panic room, pounding his fists on the iron door.

There was no response. They were already gone.

Dean looked around, annoyed to find that the room was all but empty. They had taken all the guns, knives, rope...anything that could be used to hurt himself. "Fuck!" He yelled out in frustration.

It was gonna be a long couple hours.

* * *

It was a fairly simple hunt; low-class demon, nothing they couldn't handle. It was over within the hour.

"I will go back to check on Dean." Castiel said.

Zapping into the panic room, Cas was happy to see that Dean was still alive. The hunter was sitting dejectedly in a corner. He just stared off into space, didn't even jump when Cas appeared.

"How did it go?" He asked tiredly.

"Good. The demon is dead."

"Guess you didn't need me."

Cas wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Silence.

This wasn't good. Cas could sense the raw pain emanating from the man. And the despair. He had completely given up. There was no fight left. None of his usual snarky comments, nothing. Just silence.

* * *

Sam and Bobby returned shortly after Cas. Sam immediately headed to the panic room to see how Dean was.

He and Cas were just...staring at each other...awkward.

*Ahem* He cleared his throat. Cas looked up, but Dean didn't move at all. Sam wondered if he'd been in that same position the whole time.

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey. Could I have a minute alone with Dean?"

"Of course." Cas was gone in an instant.

Sam sat on the cold floor, across from Dean. "Hey," He said softly.

Dean didn't respond.

"Look, man-"

"Don't." The older Winchester said this one word in a sharp tone.

Sam was confused. "Don't what...?"

"Don't you go on pity patrol. I don't wanna talk about it."

"I'm not. I'm not, I'm just saying..." Sam struggled to find the right words. To get through to his brother somehow.

"Look, Dean. You don't stop being a soldier just cause you got wounded in battle. Okay? No matter what shape you're in, bottom line is; you're family. I don't know if you've noticed, but me and Bobby, hell, even Cas...we don't have much left." Sam's voice broke. "I can't do this without you, Dee. I can't."

Dean finally looked at Sam. There was so much pain in his eyes. Guilt too. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

Sam stood, and pulled Dean to his feet. He looked the broken hunter in the eyes. "Don't you dare think about checking out. I don't wanna hear that again. Okay?"

Sam saw a glimmer of fight in those green eyes, and that was all he needed.

"Okay."

"Good. Now I'm not saying it's gonna be easy...but I'm here for you, man. We all are."

"Thanks. Are we done feeling our feelings yet? Let's stop before we start growing lady parts."

Finally, a spark of the old Dean.


	8. Chapter 8

_*_ **Two days later***

Dean was shaking.

 _Two days. Two damn days. That's all he could take without it...pathetic._

They'd left Bobby's house the day before, having caught wind of another possible case a couple towns over. Dean was doing a little better. He was no longer actively suicidal. Meaning that he wasn't gonna kill himself, but if something deadly came his way, he wasn't exactly gonna try to stop it.

He knew people cared about him. But that didn't change the fact that he was miserable. Nothing could make him forget the things he saw...the things he _did_ in Hell. The nightmares wouldn't stop.

So here he was, in a shady motel bathroom, trying not to cut himself.

Sam wasn't stupid; he wouldn't leave Dean alone with a sharp object. He'd baby-proofed the motel room and only given his brother a weapon when they were hunting.

But Dean wasn't stupid either. He knew how to slip things past Sam. He felt guilty as hell; hiding things from each other was something they did too often. But he needed this.

Dean had managed to pick up a couple pieces of broken glass from the street this morning. He held a small shard in his hand, and just stared at it. He turned his gaze to the mirror.

 _What are you doing?_ He thought as he looked at his reflection. God, he hated himself.

He lifted his shirt, and pressed the glass to the skin just above his hip. He sighed with relief when he felt the familiar pain. His heart started beating faster as he watched the beautiful scarlet blood start dripping. The crimson against the pale skin of his stomach was magnificent...

 _He wanted more._

No, he promised Sam he would try to stop.

Dean angrily threw the blade into the trash. He was disgusted with himself. He couldn't even control himself after two fucking days.

His hands were shaking again. He needed help. He opened the bathroom door, and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands.

* * *

"Dean...?" Sam shut his laptop and sat next to his brother. His eyes widened in alarm as he realized that Dean was trembling.

"I can't stop, Sammy."

He didn't even have to explain what he couldn't stop. Blood was seeping through his shirt, creating a small stain.

"How bad is it?" Sam swallowed hard.

"Not bad, just a scratch." Dean straightened up, wincing slightly.

"Not what I meant. How bad is the...urge to cut?" Sam hesitated. He knew this was a touchy subject. Getting Dean to talk about his feelings was like trying to nail water to a tree.

"Don't worry about it."

 _Typical._ "Come on, man. I'm just trying to help."

"Thanks. I'm fine."

"Dude, you're shaking like a drug addict going through withdrawals."

"Maybe I am. You're only letting me have two beers a day." Dean glared at him.

Sam chuckled. "Most people are 60% water. When we checked you into that hospital, I'm pretty sure you were 60% alcohol. You're killing your liver."

Dean groaned. "Does it look like I care?"

It was Sam's turn to glare. "Well I care." He tried to lift Dean's shirt to take a look at the wound.

"It's nothing." Dean pulled away.

"Just humor me."

"Dude, I'm fine. I just freaked out for a minute. I'll take care of it."

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line. Dean was a horrible patient.


	9. Chapter 9

_More._ Dean's internal voices were screaming at him.

The cut from the glass hadn't been enough. If he was gonna stay alive; if he couldn't kill himself...he needed this.

It had only been two hours. The shakes were back. _Goddammit._

"Dean?" Sam walked over. "Must be kinda hard to type with your hands shaking like that."

Dean forced a laugh. "Yeah. Why don't you give me another beer. Might help."

"Nice try." Sam wasn't amused.

"I'll be right back." Dean mumbled, shoving the laptop at Sam.

His brother watched suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"What I normally do after watching porn." Dean tried to be convincing, giving Sam his creepiest wink as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

"Dude, gross."

* * *

Finally, he was alone.

He made sure the door was locked before digging the shard of glass out of the trash can, the sharp edge still stained with his blood. He washed it off, and began to feed his addiction.

He took off his shirt, and let the voices win.

One cut. _Loser_. Two cuts. _Pathetic_. Three cuts. _Weak_. Four cuts. _Monster_.

each cut was deeper than the last. By thirty, Dean realized that he'd gotten carried away again. He'd probably need stitches, and the bleeding wasn't stopping anytime soon. He looked in the mirror. Jesus, he looked like something out of a horror movie.

Suddenly he sensed movement. Castiel appeared behind him, causing Dean to jump.

"Fuck! Cas!"

"Dude, really? Gross. Keep it down." Sam called from the other side of the door.

Dean's face flushed red as he realized how that must have sounded.

"Dean, what have you done?" The angel looked sad.

" _Cas_?" There was a pause. "Oh my God, he's actually in there with you. It finally happened. I'm leaving."

Dean tried not to laugh as he heard Sam scrambling around, getting his stuff, and slamming the door behind him.

"What...finally happened?" Cas looked confused.

"Nothing, dude. You can leave now."

"No. You are hurt."

"I'm fine."

"Some of those cuts require stitches. Let me heal you."

Cas stepped forward, and Dean backed into the counter. "O-kay, easy there, angel. Can we _not_ do this in here?"

"Of course."

They exited the bathroom, and Dean collapsed onto the bed. The adrenaline was fading, and the pain was kicking it. He felt dizzy...

Cas touched his forehead, and Dean felt a warmth spreading through his chest, along with a bizarre sensation as his wounds closed.

"Thanks."

"You are welcome."

"Please don't tell Sam."

Cas frowned. "I cannot always be here to save you. Sam must know so he can keep you safe."

"Please, Cas." He begged.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

And the angel was gone.

* * *

Castiel dared only leave Dean alone for a few minutes. He quickly located Sam in the motel lobby.

"Sam."

The younger Winchester looked surprised, and slightly embarrassed for some reason. "Hey."

"Come back to the room immediately." Cas commanded.

Leaving a confused Sam behind, Cas returned to check on Dean.

He was hurriedly trying to clean up the evidence, attempting to scrub the dried blood off his chest.

"Please tell me you didn't go get Sam."

Cas almost felt guilty. Dean looked so scared.

"I'm sorry."

Just then, Sam opened the door, looking out-of-breath. "What's u-?" He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Dean washing the blood off his skin. "Dean..."

Dean couldn't look his brother in the eye. He threw a shirt on, and walked out of the bathroom. He closed the door, trying to hide the bloody mess.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Dude, you're covered in blood."

"I could sense that he was harming himself, so I decided to interrupt him before he did any permanent damage." Castiel explained.

"Oh. Oh!" A look of realization appeared on Sam's face. He chuckled. "I uh, thought something else was going on."

"Like what?" Cas was confused. There was nothing funny about this situation.

"Nothing. Leave it." Dean looked embarrassed.

Sam grinned.

"What?" Cas was beyond curious now.

"I thought you and him were...uhh..."

"Fucking, Cas. He thought we were fucking." Dean said flatly. "It's not funny, Sam."

"Oh!" Cas said awkwardly. "He thought we were having intercourse? Why?"

"Cause you two have this weird crush thing going on, I don't know."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I don't 'swing that way', as I've heard it said." Cas looked at him apologetically.

"Dude, neither do I. It's fine." Dean looked relieved. "Okay, now that that's out of the way..."

"Now that that's out of the way, we're gonna talk about what's going on with you."

"Noooooo" Dean groaned.

Great. Another freaking intervention.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys :) Okay, okay, so I gave in to the daMN DESTIEL SHIPPERS. AGH. Slippery slope, man, I'm telling you. As much as I hate Destiel, it kinda ships itself. I couldn't resist adding that little tidbit to the last chapter haha. I thought it was too funny to leave out. That will be the extent of the Destiel for this story haha. FOR REALS this time.**

 **(Idk if you've noticed, but this story doesn't exactly stick to timelines. This chapter especially. Sue me.)**

 **((JK, please don't.))**

 **One more thing - I wrote this chapter while listening to Hey Jude. *sobbing***

* * *

"We are so not doing this." Dean crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"What other choice do we have, Dean? You're killing yourself!"

"Actually, no I'm not. I do this so I don't kill myself."

"I don't understand."

"And you can't. Okay? So stop trying." Despite protests from both Sam and Cas, Dean stormed out of the motel room.

Sam was sick with worry. "Fuck!" In an uncharacteristic display of frustration, he punched the wall, leaving a considerably large hole.

Castiel frowned. "That will not help Dean."

"No shit!" Sam cradled his bloody hand.

"I have an idea." Cas then disappeared, typical of the angel to not explain his plan.

"Better be a good one," Sam muttered.

* * *

Dean was walking angrily down the street, hands shoved in his pockets. How dare they try to control him. They had no idea what he was going through. They were treating him like a child.

All of a sudden, Cas appeared in front of him. Dean removed his hands from his pockets, ready to fight. He wouldn't be surprised if the angel was here to take him back to the motel and tie him up until they got him to talk.

Castiel simply touched his forehead. Suddenly Dean felt like he was flying. On drugs. He experienced a weightlessness and the world went bright white.

"What the..." He squinted. The light started to fade, and he was in an unfamiliar place.

But was it really so unfamiliar?

 _Home..._

The closest thing to a real home he had. The house in Lawrence. Where Mom had died. Where it all started.

"Cas, you bastard. Why would you bring me here?" He cried out.

"I've been waiting for you." Came a feminine voice from behind him. A familiar voice.

"Mom?" Dean turned and gaped at her in disbelief. It was her. Mary Winchester. His mother. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Young, full of life...

"How...?"

She walked over to him. "Come inside, sweetie. I'll explain everything."

Dumbfounded, he followed her into the house.

The kitchen was just as he remembered it. Everything felt like home. He felt safe. What was happening?

"Mom, is it really you?" He asked softly.

"It's me." She smiled at him sadly.

"I'm dreaming."

She laughed. "Not exactly. You're in Heaven."

Dean stared at her. "First of all, how the hell did **_I_** get into Heaven? And second of all, how am I dead? Cas has been trying to keep me from getting not-dead."

Mary laughed. "Call it a visitor's pass."

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

"I told Cas to watch out for you. He told me what's been going on." Her smile faded, replaced by sorrow.

Dean looked away. He never would have wanted his mother to know about this...

"Honey, look at me." She begged.

He couldn't meet her gaze. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Oh, sweetie...I'm sorry you're hurting. I can't imagine what you've been through."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Can we not talk about this?"

"I'm sorry, but we don't have much time." She reached across the table and took his hand, flipping his arm over to show the numerous scars. "This needs to stop, baby." She said firmly.

"Mom, I can't." His voice broke. "You don't understand..."

"You're afraid that if you stop, you'll kill yourself. You're addicted. You get the shakes when you stop. You love the blood. How am I doing so far?"

"H-how..."

"You're more like me than you realize." She smiled sadly.

"Mom, you...you mean to tell me that you.."

"I just to cut myself, yes."

Dean's heart dropped, and he felt sick. "Why?"

"I was stuck in a world I didn't belong in. All I wanted was to be normal. I hated being a hunter. Our reasons are different, but the pain is the same." Mary gazed into her son's eyes. "How you're feeling right now, hearing that I used to cut...that's how Sam feels. He's worried sick. It's breaking his heart. This doesn't just affect you, Dean."

"I know...I just...I don't know if I can stop, Mom."

"It's not easy. For me it didn't happen until I married John and started a normal life. I don't know what to tell you, other than you need to try." She stood and walked over to his side of the table. "It's okay to ask for help. Sam is your brother. Let him in."

"I'll try."

A white light began to fill the room, getting brighter and brighter every second.

"It looks like our time is up, Baby." Mary had tears in her eyes.

Dean quickly stood and hugged her, holding her tight. "I love you, Mom." He choked out.

"I love you too, Dean. Please don't give up." She started quietly humming Hey Jude.

He felt her slipping through his arms, an energy dissipating into nothing. The world started spinning and everything went black, the last notes of Hey Jude softly fading.

* * *

 **Author's note - I'm not sure about this chapter. Do you like it? Or is it a bit much? I need feedback, people! Thanks. I love you all.**


	11. Chapter 11

Sam nervously paced the motel room. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course. He is only temporarily dead." Cas replied nonchalantly.

"Yeah. Only temporarily." Sam laughed shortly. Dean's body was laying on the bed, his chest still. Sam hated not being able to see his brother breathing.

*gasp*

Dean suddenly jolted to life, sucking in air as if he'd been suffocating.

"Dean!" Sam rushed to his side, helping him sit up. "Deep breaths, calm down."

Dean looked around, his eyes finally resting on Cas. "Put me back." He said in a strangled voice.

"I'm sorry, put you back where?"

"Back with Mom."

"I cannot do that, Dean."

"Can't or won't?!"

"I won't. And if I heard correctly, you promised your mother that you would try to get better."

"God dammit, Cas...you were listening?"

"Does it matter? Dean, come on...please don't leave me." Sam tried to keep from yelling, his voice hushing to a whisper instead.

Dean looked exhausted. "God, I don't know what to do."

"If you could stop trying to kill yourself that would be preferable."

"Thanks, Cas."

* * *

Dean watched Sam pack up the duffel bag, getting ready to leave. He eyed the knives, craving the feeling of the cold steel biting into his skin.

Sam noticed. "Dude, stop eye-fucking the knives."

"Shut up." He managed to tear his gaze away. "So what's the plan?"

"Head to the Roadhouse, see if Ash has picked up on anything weird."

"Sounds good."

"Hey," Sam said softly.

"What?"

"I need you with me on this one, okay? It seems like everyone I love dies. Mom, Dad, Jess..." He swallowed hard. "I can't do this without you, De."

Dean felt a pang of guilt. "Alright, Sammy. I'm with you." He playfully punched his brother. "Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."


	12. Chapter 12

They drove to the Roadhouse in silence. Dean simply sat in the passenger seat and stared blankly out the window. He didn't even try to turn on the radio. As they pulled into the parking lot, he looked over at Sam, with pleading in his eyes.

"Sam, please don't tell them."

Sam hesitated, but agreed. "Fine, as long as you don't try anything stupid."

They walked into the homey bar, and Sam watched as Dean tried to hide how broken he was. He straightened up, put on his best lady-killer smile, and snuck up behind Jo, grabbing her around the waist and twirling her around.

She squealed, and playfully slapped him.

"Miss me, Sweetheart?"

"Barely noticed you were gone." She joked.

"Hey, get a room you two." Ash dried his hands on a rag and came over to the brothers, clapping them on the backs.

"How are my favorite wanted criminals?"

"Peachy." Dean sauntered over to the bar. "Ellen, how 'bout a drink?"

Sam shot him a glare, but didn't say anything.

"The boys are back in town, huh?" Ellen poured him a glass. "How've you been?"

"Great," Dean answered too quickly. Ellen shot him a questioning glance, but he ignored it.

Sam coughed. "So, Ash...anything on demon-radar?"

"Not much. It's been pretty quiet." He took a shot of whiskey before adding, "Oh, but there was one thing. A little while ago, maybe a week, there were demonic omens all over Sioux City. I called you a dozen times, every number I have for you. You just feel like ignoring me, or what?"

"Sorry, Ash. We were kinda in the middle of something."

"I thought so. I know it was close to Bobby's place, so I figured you were on it already. It would've been nice to get a phone call back though, just let me know if you're alive next time." He was only half joking.

* * *

"Sure thing."

Dean felt sweat trickling down his brow. He really needed to get some thinner, long sleeved shirts. He could have asked Cas to heal the scars, but he liked them. He didn't want them gone. Every time they faded, he felt the need to create more.

Jo sat next to him at the bar. "I could go for a round of pool. Loser buys drinks?"

He flashed her a smile and winked. "Is that all?"

"Perv." She stuck her tongue out.

"I'd like to see what else you can do with that tongue."

"Hey, that's my daughter you're talking about." Ellen glared at him.

"Sorry, Ma'am." Ellen was one of the few things he feared in this life.

Jo took his hand and led him over to the pool table. "Any last words?"

"Bite me."

* * *

Dean was having a good time. He was glad that the no one here at the Roadhouse knew about what was going on with him. He was sick of Sam tip-toeing around like the littlest thing would send him off to the blade. It was nice to be treated normally again.

Jo was kicking his trash. That little wildcat could sure hustle pool.

"Wanna just call it quits and say that I won?" She teased.

"In your dreams. A true warrior never admits defeat."

"Even when it's inevitable?"

God, it felt good to smile again. He leaned over to line up the shot. He didn't even notice that his sleeve had slipped up until Jo gasped. His hand slipped, and the cue ball went straight into a pocket.

"Dammit." He could care less about the game. Jo wasn't gonna leave this alone.

"Dean, what happened to your arm? Those look fresh, come on...let's get you bandaged up." She tugged at his sleeve with concern, trying to get a better look.

"It's nothing. Just ran into a couple ghouls and they used me as a scratching post. No biggie."

"If it's 'no biggie', then let me see it." She raised an eyebrow.

Geez, she was as stubborn as her mom.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. Let's keep playing. I'm about to come out ahead, I can feel it." He tried to smile.

"Quit bein' such a baby. Let's see what you got." Shit. Ellen had overheard.

He looked to Sam for help, but he just shrugged and looked at Dean helplessly.

"It's uh, it's nothing, really. I gotta get some air." He mumbled, and all but ran out the back door.

* * *

Sam made a move to follow him, but Ash stopped him. "Hey, if the man needs air, let him breathe."

"You don't understand, I gotta make sure he's okay."

"Why wouldn't he be? What's going on?" Jo frowned, worry written all over her face.

"It's...I...I really can't tell you, sorry." Sam stuttered, and pushed past them.

"Dean?" He hurried to the door, but opened it just in time to hear the Impala screeching away. "Dammit! Cas, I hope you have your ears on..." He offered up a silent prayer, hoping the angel would watch over his brother.

* * *

 **Heyyyy I really need some feedback. So far I haven't included a ship. (The tiny bit of Destiel doesn't count.) Should I pair Dean and Jo together? (What is their ship name anyway? Jean? Do? hahahahahaha I'm tired.) Anyway, seriously guys. Drop a review and let me know.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello again :) sooo even though the timeline has been all over the place, I'm gonna clarify a few things: This is before Cas branded Sam and Dean with the sigils on their ribs that hide them from angels. Also before any of them know what the angels have in store for them. Uriel is dead though. Cas is on their side. Lucifer is still in the cage.**

* * *

 _Cas, I hope you have your ears on…_

Castiel was gathering intelligence on Lilith, and it was with mild annoyance that he tuned in to the younger Winchester's prayer.

 _Dean just took the Impala. I don't know where he's going, but if you could watch out for him, I'd really appreciate it._

Castiel was glad he listened. Dean should not be alone right now. He quickly located the troubled man, and teleported to the backseat of the impala. He maintained his invisibility, however. He knew how upset Dean was when he knew he was being watched.

Dean drove to the nearest liquor store, and bought a 12 pack. Cas didn't stop him, although he agreed with Sam that the hunter needed to drink less.

Back on the road, Dean drove to a nearby wooded area. He parked the car, sat on the hood, and began drinking. After the first six beers, Cas decided to alert Sam to his brother's location. It would not be safe for him to drive in this intoxicated state.

Before he could go anywhere, however, he noticed that Dean had gotten back inside the car and was rummaging around for something. He pulled a gun out of the glove compartment.

 _Really?_

Cas materialized in the passenger seat, and simply plucked the weapon from Dean's hands. The hunter yelped in surprise.

"Cas, what the hell?"

"I should be asking you that."

"You're stalking me."

"You were about to shoot yourself."

"No, I wasn't."

"It certainly appeared that way."

Dean glared at the angel. "For your information, I was gonna take some frustration out on nature. Shoot some rabbits or something."

"I don't understand how killing things makes you feel better."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You can leave now." He slurred.

"You are intoxicated. It is not safe for you to be handling firearms." Cas tucked the gun away in his trench coat, but it wouldn't surprise him if there were more weapons in the Winchester's car. "You need to go back to Sam."

"No, cause then I'd have to explain everything to Ellen and Jo and Ash."

The fearless hunter looked very vulnerable. "I don't understand," Cas tilted his head. "They all care about you very much. Why do you wish to hide this from them? Maybe they could be of assistance."

"No, no, nooo…" Dean bopped Cas on the nose. "You, my friend, do not understand love."

Cas raised an eyebrow, slightly offended. "What do you mean?"

"When you love people, you lie to them."

"Why would you do that? It has caused nothing but problems between you and Sam in the past."

"You lie…because that's how you become president." Dean started laughing hysterically.

Cas was uncomfortable. "I…do not understand what that has to do with love."

"Not a damn thing, angel."

Cas was growing tired of this. The hunter was not making any sense. With a single touch, he cleared the alcohol out of Dean's system.

Dean blinked, staring at Cas. "What just happened?"

"You were drunk. Now we are going back to the Roadhouse. Start the car or I will transport us there immediately."

"Geez, drunk me sure got your panties in a twist." Dean mumbled as he started the car.

* * *

As they neared the roadhouse, Dean looked over at Cas. He felt a sudden pang of guilt. The angel had better things to do than to babysit him. "Hey, I'm sorry."

"It is alright, Dean. I have come to realize that humans do strange things when they are in pain."

"Right. Hey, could you do me a favor?"

"Anything.

Dean was surprised at the sincerity in the angel's eyes.

"Um, no one at the Roadhouse knows about any of this. At least, they shouldn't. If Sam told them….fuck." Dean trailed off. He'd left without an explanation. What if Sam had felt obligated to illuminate the situation?"

"You hope to keep your emotional instability a secret." Cas finished his sentence.

Dean chuckled. "Emotional instability, huh? Okay, we'll go with that."

"I won't tell them, Dean."

"Thanks, buddy."

They walked into the Roadhouse, and Dean prepared himself for the inevitable shit-storm of questions.

Sam was nowhere in sight, but Jo greeted him with a concerned smile.

 _Fuck, she knows._

"Hey, where've you been?"

"Um…" He struggled to find words.

"We were gathering intelligence on Lilith." Cas offered.

Dean stared at his friend. An angel, lying? Wow, they really had corrupted him. _Thanks, man_. He said silently, knowing Cas would hear his prayer of gratitude.

Jo seemed to accept it. "Okay. Hey, Cas. How have you been?"

Castiel looked confused. "I…have been good?"

Jo laughed at his awkwardness. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I'm, uh, not sure that would be a good idea."

"Come on, I've always wanted to get an angel drunk." Ash called from the bar with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.

Cas looked like a deer in the headlights. "Thank you, but I must be going now." He hurriedly vanished.

Dean chuckled. "Maybe next time. Hey, where's Sam?"

"He's upstairs sleeping." Ellen said from behind a stack of chairs. She walked over to Dean. "You sure you're okay, kid? Sam said there was something he couldn't tell us."

Dean knew this was an invitation- well, more like a command- to tell her what the hell was going on with him. But he couldn't…

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just been on the road a little too long." He lied.

 **WARNING: THE NEXT CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPICIT, SHAMELESS SMUT.**


	14. Chapter 14

_Hell. It followed him everywhere. He couldn't escape the stench of burning flesh. He was back in the pit, slicing into some poor sap. He watched the blade bury itself deep into the soft, pink flesh. He shivered with excitement. The beautiful red blood flowed freely. "Let me go…" The man groaned._

 _It was then that Dean realized the man on the rack was himself. He looked into his own green eyes, and saw the desperation and fear mirrored._

 _He blinked, and in an instant he had switched places with himself. He was on the torture rack now. But he wasn't pleading for mercy. He wanted this. "Go ahead. Cut me." He challenged._

 _He felt the sick pleasure as the blade sliced deeply into his wrist._

"Dean, Dean, wake up."

"Huh?" He mumbled sleepily as the last remnants of the dream faded. He expected Sammy to be the one waking him, as usual. But it was Jo. She sat on the edge of the bed, hand still on his shoulder.

"Woah, how'd you get in here?" He was suddenly wide awake. He quickly made sure that his shirt was still masking the cuts.

"It's called a door, Sherlock." She smiled. "I heard you making noise, and thought you were having a nightmare." She took his hand, and seductively licked up his finger. "But when I got in here, you were making some seriously happy noises."

His eyes widened, and he felt a mix of emotions. He was definitely sick. Dreaming of cutting himself should not produce the same 'happy noises' as a wet dream.

Jo was so beautiful…her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light, and he realized that he wanted her. There had always been a sexual tension between them, but he respected her too much to do anything about it.

That, and the fact that he was terrified of her mother.

"Jo…" He gently removed his finger from her mouth. "What about Ellen? And Ash… and Sam?"

"All asleep in separate rooms." She bounced over to the door and turned the lock. "As long as we keep it down, we should be fine." She purred.

He let his eyes rake over her slim body. The moonlight shone through the window, hitting her nightgown in a way that allowed him to see right through it.

He felt his body betraying him. Dammit. He could smell her in the air and feel her close like a static charge. She was threatening as hell. Because she represented something frightening.

To Dean, Jo represented the potential for something he could never allow himself to have. He couldn't permit himself to corrupt her, to harm her, to poison her with his family and his name. He desperately wanted to protect her from himself.

But he also desperately wanted to fuck her into the next week

* * *

 **ATTENTION EVERYONE UNDER 18. STOP READING. Also, Daci. You should not be reading this hahahaha I apologize for corrupting you. The next text in bold is when it's safe to start reading again.**

* * *

She giggled. "Looks like someone is ready." Jo climbed onto the bad, straddling his lap. "So, what do you say?" She whispered into his ear.

He didn't trust himself…if he let her in, he would be exposing her to all of the blood and terror that came from being involved with a Winchester.

But it had been so long since he had been intimate with someone…

"Hell yes," He felt himself mumble. Jo's eyes were wide, full of lust and excitement. Dean brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, smiling gently. He pressed his lips to hers. She was so soft…

Dean let his tongue slide across Jo's lower lip. He played with it for a moment, sucking it between his teeth to gently bite it.

Jo moaned and pressed closer, grinding her hips gently against his growing erection. She let her hands drop from his face to his hips, her slender fingers tickling him slightly as she lifted his shirt.

In this moment, Dean remembered the cuts. The scars….He couldn't let Jo see them…But maybe it was dark enough? But she was sure to feel them…

He stopped kissing her, and panicked, yanking his shirt back down.

"Dean?" Jo pulled away, looking hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all…" He struggled to find an explanation, feeling guilty.

"Dean, I know something's up with you." She said softly, caressing his face. "Tell me, please."

He avoided her gaze, but she took his face in her hands. "Please."

Her beautiful eyes, filled with so much worry and care…could he really turn her away?

"Fine…just…please don't freak out."

"I won't." She eyed him with curiosity.

"Promise me you won't treat me any differently."

She laughed nervously. "Geez, what's up? Do you have a third nipple or something?" She teased.

"Worse." Dean tried to keep his tone light, but anxiety crept in.

"Can I…?" Jo hesitantly started to lift his shirt again.

"Yeah," He allowed her to toss his shirt to the side. He was thankful for the dim light that concealed the worst of his injuries.

She ran her hands across his chest and stomach, feeling every cut and scar. "They're nothing to be ashamed of, Dean." She said softly. "All hunters have scars. It's part of the job description."

She thought they were from hunting. Thank God.

"Mmm" He latched his lips back onto hers, and started undoing the buttons of her nightgown with renewed passion. His mouth dropped to her neck, gently kissing his way down to her collarbone where he started sucking gently.

She moaned, and her hands fell to his belt, skillfully undoing it.

At the same time, he lifted the nightgown over her head, revealing matching lace bra and panties.

He flipped her over and tugged her panties down. He trailed wet kisses down her smooth stomach, and paused just above her womanhood. "Jo, are you sure?" He asked in a husky voice.

"Yes! Dean, please…" She whined breathlessly. The sound of her begging made his dick throb even harder.

He abandoned all reserve, and parted her legs, letting his tongue flick across her clit. Her back arched in the air, and he could tell she was trying to keep quiet. He smiled, taking pride in making her come completely undone.

He slid a finger between her folds, moving it around gently. God, she was so tight.

"More." She demanded.

He slipped another finger inside her, curling them up to massage her g-spot.

"Dean! Mmm, oh, yes…"

The filthy sounds she was making….he wanted nothing more than to pound into her…

"Shit. Jo, baby, I don't have a condom." He realized, his heart dropping.

She grinned. "Let's just say I had this planned." With a smirk, she reached out to the bedside table and opened the drawer, rummaging around for a moment. "Jackpot." She ripped the condom wrapper open with her teeth.

"Fuck, babe, that's so hot." He growled.

She seductively slipped it onto his aching member.

He lined himself up to her entrance. "Are you ready?"

"Yes! Give it to me!"

He slowly guided his cock into her, loving every second. The hot, sweet inside of her pussy seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own dick.

She moaned as he filled her up. "OH! Dean, move, please…I'm ready!"

He started slowly at first, and then picked up the pace. He thrust into her again and again, rolling his hips to hit her sweet spot every time.

He looked down at her ample breasts bouncing as he pounded her. Her blonde hair was splayed across the pillow, her eyes shut in ecstasy as she rolled her head from side to side.

He felt his cock swelling, he was getting close.

"Shit, Jo…I'm…I'm gonna –"

"Me too!" She cried out.

On impulse, he grabbed her breasts, still thrusting in and out of her.

"Oh, OH! DEAN!"

"JO, BABY!"

They cried out each other's names, and rode out their orgasms together.

Breathing hard, Dean stayed inside her for a moment, grinning. "That was amazing."

"Yeah." Jo appeared dazed, a giddy smile plastered onto her face.

Dean finally slid out of her, disposing of the condom into the wastebasket near the bed.

He eased himself down beside her, snuggling up against her back so she was the little spoon.

She giggled happily, and he sighed with contentment.

 **Alright, safe to read again. Sorry guys lol. Also, that was my first attempt at writing smut. Sorry if it sucks.**


	15. Chapter 15

Dean pressed a kiss into Jo's hair. "You know, you technically took my virginity." He smirked.

She turned to face him. "What?"

"You heard me. I haven't been laid since before I got out of Hell."

She smiled proudly. "Well, I feel honored."

"You should." He kissed her tenderly, a stark difference from the passionate kisses they had shared earlier.

She turned back around, snuggling up to him and grabbing his arms so they reached around her waist. He felt himself drifting off to sleep again, but felt Jo's body stiffen.

"Dean...what are these?"

He realized that she had been stroking his arms. Shit...

She sat up and switched on the lamp. He awkwardly tried to hide his arms beneath the covers.

"Stop." She grabbed his hands, looking in shock at the mess of cuts and scars that ran up and down his forearms. Her eyes roamed to his chest as well. Realization crossed her face.

"Oh, honey..."

"You promised." Dean said gruffly. "You promised not to treat me any different."

"Dean..."

"Please, Jo." He couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Dean, look at me."

He hesitantly met her gaze.

"Sweetheart, why would you do this to yourself?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

She kissed one of the bigger cuts on his wrist. "If you ever change your mind...I'm here. I mean it."

"Thanks."

She laid back down beside him, clinging to him as if he would disappear. He heard her sniff quietly, and realized that she was crying.

Why would someone cry over him? He wasn't worth it.

"I'm sorry, Jo." He whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

Dean awoke to a loud knocking. His eyes flew open, instantly looking towards the side of the bed where Jo had been curled up against his chest last night. To his disappointment, she was gone. Had it been a dream?

The pounding on the door was incessant. "What?" He called out sleepily.

"Dean-O, we got somethin' big. Put on some pants and get your ass out here." Ash's voice sounded urgent.

Dean dragged himself out of bed and started gathering up his clothes, which were strewn about the room. As he looked around, he noticed a small sticky note taped to the bedside table.

 _Dean,_

 _I hate to love and leave, but if my mom catches us, we're both dead._

It was signed with a heart, and Dean felt himself smile, pondering the significance of that. He stuck the note in his pocket, and hurried downstairs.

"What's up?" Team Free Will was at a table, gathered around Ash. A bible lay open, along with several other religious texts.

"Lilith is attempting to break another seal." Castiel said somberly.

"Bitch never takes a break." Dean mumbled. "What's the word, Cas?"

"It is the shortened version of my name."

"Dean rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant."

Sam spoke up. "There's a town where people aren't dying."

"And that's bad?"

"Yeah. They're not dying because there's no one there to reap their souls."

"So what, Death's on vacation?"

"A reaper has been kidnapped."

Dean blinked. "By who? Can that even happen?"

"Demons. A reaper has to be slaughtered beneath a full moon to break this particular seal. I tracked them to the mortuary where she is being held captive. However, it is heavily guarded by angel warding sigils. I cannot get in."

"Alright! Come on baby, world ain't gonna save itself." Ash jumped to his feet and started humming "Don't Fear the Reaper."

Dean caught Jo's gaze, and a slight blush crept into her cheeks. He smiled, winking at her discreetly.

* * *

The job was two states over. Sam, Dean, and Cas rode in the Impala, while Ellen, Jo, and Ash trailed behind them in a pickup. Bobby would meet them there. There was no telling how many demons would be protecting the Reaper until it was showtime.

"Hey Cas, would you give us a minute alone?" Sam twisted around to look at the angel in the backseat.

"Of course. I do not enjoy this form of transportation anyway. I will meet up with you when you get close." With the rustling of wings, Cas was gone.

Dean looked over at his brother suspiciously. Sam had let him drive, so he assumed that was an improvement on the trust front. "Well?"

"You're not gonna try to kill yourself on this job, right?" Sam was surprisingly blunt.

"Right." Dean didn't feel like giving a lengthy explanation. "I promised Mom I was gonna try. Okay, Sam? I'm trying here."

"Thanks." Sam nodded gratefully.

* * *

They met up with Bobby and Cas just outside the mortuary. It looked unassuming enough, not threatening at all. It was hard to believe something sinister was going on inside.

"You sure this is the place?"

"It has angel sigils all over the exterior. This is the place."

"Alright, what's the plan?" Ash seemed eager to jump into action.

"This is where it gets complicated. You gotta be dead or dying to see the reaper." Bobby explained.

Dean resisted to urge to volunteer for that job.

"Well we don't have to see her to save her, do we?" Jo asked, stating the obvious.

"Right. But the thing he's gonna use to kill her with is also invisible to the living. The scythe."

"Woah, hold up. You mean _the_ scythe?" Ash got excited. "That thing is as old as time itself. How'd they get ahold of it?"

"Hell if I know. Demons can be crafty when they got an end goal in mind. You know, the apocalypse?"

"It'd sure be helpful to be able to see those things, but I still don't get what the problem is." Ellen spoke up.

Bobby laughed humorlessly. "Alright, let's just barge in there to save a creature we can't see, from a weapon we can't see. Oh, and keep in mind that the demons will probably be swingin' it at us. It'd be damn _helpful_ to be able to see what we're dodgin'."

"So, one of us has to die?"

"Don't sound so damn excited, boy." Bobby glared at Dean. "We just got through talkin' your sorry ass off the ledge."

Dean cringed. Bobby apparently hadn't gotten the whole, 'let's keep it a secret that Dean is suicidal' memo.

Jo looked at him with sadness in her eyes, but it seemed like the reference went over Ash and Ellen's heads. Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

"What do we do?"

"I will carefully remove your spirits from your bodies."

The team stared at Castiel as if he'd grown a tail.

"Only temporarily." Cas added. "And not all of you. Some of you will need to be corporeal to break the spell binding to Reaper to the ritual."

"Awesome. So, we gonna draw straws, or what?"

Cas shook his head. "Sam has been dead before, even if he does not remember it. His spirit is most powerful anyway, being tainted by the demon blood."

Dean looked at his little brother. "Hell no. I've been dead before too. Like a million times. A million Tuesdays, to be exact. You're not killing my little brother."

"Dean, it's okay." Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder, looking like he was trying to restrain him from attacking Cas. "You heard him. It'll only be temporary."

"Alright, then I'll go as a ghost too."

Cas hesitated. "Dean, can I talk to you?"

Feeling everyone's eyes on him, he reluctantly agreed. He wandered off with the angel a few feet away, out of earshot.

"After this is over, those who I remove from their bodies will have the choice to return to them, or not. I cannot trust you to make the right choice here."

"Oh." The angel had a point. "Just promise me Sammy will be alright."

"He does not harbor the same actively suicidal thoughts that you do, Dean. He will return to his body."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'actively'? Is he having 'not so actively' suicidal thoughts?" Dean frowned. "What does that even mean?"

Looking like he'd already shared too much, Cas shrugged. "You would have to talk to him about that."

Oh, Dean planned to.

 _*an hour later*_

The team was getting ready to kick ass and save lives. Well, a reaper's life. And in doing so, that would technically kill all the people in the town who were supposed to die. Dean shook his head. Their job was weird, and the line between right and wrong was so often blurred.

"We ready to do this?"

Jo nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. They were outside the mortuary. Everyone except Sam, however, who was laying on the bed of their motel room. He had to keep his body safe while his ghost roamed free. The thought of Sam watching them, but not being able to interact with them, was unnerving.

They stormed inside the mortuary, expecting to see a struggle. But it was eerily quiet. They heard faint noises from down the hall. Silently, they opened the door to the viewing room. On the floor lay a circle of salt. Two men who Dean could only assume were demons, stood just outside it and were chanting some sort of ritualistic babble.

Dean smiled. Showtime.

* * *

Sam felt oddly detached as he watched his friends prepare to save the reaper, who they couldn't even see. She lay unconscious inside a circle of salt, a pretty girl with short dark hair. He wondered how the demons were planning on ganking her. They couldn't cross the salt line.

Everything happened so fast.

Ellen started to read an exorcism. The Demons' eyes flashed black and they stopped chanting. One of them laughed but made no move to stop the attempt to send them back to Hell.

"Dean! So good to see you again." A wiry man strolled through a door across the room, and made his way to Dean.

Ellen kept reading the exorcism. They two lower-level demons smoked out, but this one remained. He must be a _major league player._ Sam thought.

"Am I supposed to know you, fuck face?" Dean spat.

"Dean, Dean, I'm hurt, really! We were so close..." The demon got in Dean's face, grabbing his collar and lifting him up like he was nothing. Ellen, Jo, and Ash tried to rush him, but with a flick of his wrist they were pinned to the wall. "...in hell." He smirked, finishing his sentence.

"Alastair." The color drained from Dean's face.

Alastair. He was the one who had tortured his brother in Hell. The one who had broken him. Sam felt rage grow inside him. He hurtled toward the demon, and was surprised when Alastair lost his grip on Dean and flew against the wall.

"Don't. Touch. My. Brother." Sam growled, hands at the demon's throat.

The surprise of being tackled by a _ghost_ of all things, must have thrown off Alastair's concentration. It gave Ellen enough time to run for the salt circle and break it.

The reaper's eyes flew open and she jolted upright, assessing the situation. In one fluid movement, she was across the room, wrath filling her deep brown eyes. Her hands replaced Sam's at the demon's throat. She choked him, and he smoked out.

The reaper stood in front of him. "Thank you, Sam. Would you like to return to your body, or come with me to the other side?" She tilted her head, her soft gaze such a difference from the unadulterated anger that he had seen only moments before.

"I'd like to get back to my body, if it's all the same to you." Sam considered the alternative for only a moment. The apocalypse was drawing nearer, and his brother needed him more than ever.

Sam felt woozy. His vision began to darken...

* * *

"Sam? Sammy, wake up." Dean's worry-filled voice drew Sam from what felt like a deep sleep. He blinked.

"Dee?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Dude, you full on Obi-Wan'd that son of a bitch back there."

Sam smiled at the pride in his brother's voice.

"Yeah. Everyone make it back okay?" For the first time, Sam became aware of his surroundings. They weren't at the motel, where Sam had originally been separated from his body. They were in one of the rooms at the Roadhouse.

"Yeah. You've been out for almost two days, Sammy. You really had me worried."

"Two days?" Sam sat up, ignoring the splitting pain in his head. "I've been dead for two days?"

"Not dead. Unconscious. I don't know the specifics, but Cas said you really 'strained your spirit' or something.

"How are you doing?"

Dean snorted. "You find out you've been asleep for two days and you wanna know how _I'm_ doing?"

Sam nodded.

"I'm alright." He seemed sincere enough, but quickly changed the subject. "So, uh, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

Dean seemed unsure of how to ask. "When I was talking to Cas about you being the one to go as a ghost or whatever, he said something about choosing you over me because you're not actively suicidal. What does that mean, Sammy?"

Sam groaned. "Ugh, I can't believe we're getting psych evals from an angel. I'm fine."

"That's what I kept saying." Dean said, looking away.

"Really, man. I've had some dark spots. I've thought about ending it more than once. But I'd never do it."

Dean's head shot up, and shock crossed his face. "Really? You...you've thought about killing yourself?"

Sam felt uncomfortable, and he understood why Dean hated that he knew about the cutting. Worrying the only family you had left was not a good thing.

"Well yeah. I mean, I have _demon blood_ in me. I'm one of the things we hunt."

* * *

Dean was both surprised and saddened by Sam's honesty. "Sammy, no you're not."

"I am. Cas has even said it before; I'm an abomination."

"Look at me, man. You're not. You're not a monster. You're my pain-in-the-ass little brother."

"Thanks. Seriously dude, you don't have to worry about me. Compared to you, I'm doing awesome."

"Now there's a reliable baseline." Dean muttered.

* * *

Sam and Dean walked down the stairs into the bar area of the Roadhouse.

"He lives!" Ash grinned widely and clapped Sam on the back. "Drinks all around!"

Ellen rolled her eyes, but went for the liquor nonetheless.

Jo came up behind Dean, and discreetly smacked his ass, winking at him. She then walked away, swaying her hips ever so slightly.

"Dude, you cannot tap that." Sam had noticed.

Dean shrugged.

"You already did, didn't you?" Sam laughed. "Ellen is gonna kill you." He said quietly.

"Then don't let her find out." Dean grinned and went to follow Jo.

* * *

"Hey, baby. What's the hurry? Couldn't wait til tonight when everyone's asleep?"

Jo shut the door behind him. "Sit." She gestured to the bed.

"I love it when you take control like that."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what this is. You've been avoiding me, and this is the only way I could get you alone to talk to you. Which is sad." She stood in front of him, gently grabbing his arm.

He jerked it away from her. "What's going on?"

"I saw the blood on your sleeve yesterday. You cut again, didn't you?"

Dean felt panic rising as he struggled to find an explanation that wouldn't end in her demanding to see his arms. Seeing Alastair again, along with Sammy being unconscious, condition unknown, Dean had been really stressed and worried. He drank as much as Bobby would let him, but it wasn't enough. He needed something else to take the edge off.

"Uh..."

"It's okay. Please show me?" Jo looked at him with pity in her eyes.

"Don't do that." He mumbled.

"Do what?"

"Look at me like that! Like I'm a dog that's been kicked."

Jo frowned. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

He sighed. "It's okay." This was just a really sensitive subject for him.

She started to lift his sleeve, but he pulled away.

"Trust me." She looked into his eyes as she drew his sleeve back. Her eyes dropped to the mutilated flesh beneath, and her eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Dean, what the fuck?!" She raised her voice.

He tugged it back in place, covering the cuts. "Keep it down."

"Dean, those are bad. You need stitches. Why the hell would you cut so bad?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Fine. Don't. But I'm gonna go get my first aid kit. You need help."

Dean groaned and put his head in his hands. He was so stupid.

 _I guess that's what I do._ He thought. _Let down the people I love._


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys, sorry this fanfic is so long! I did not expect it to go this way. I probably should have split it up into several shorter stories, sorry….**

* * *

Jo was back in less than two minutes, sporting a small first aid kit. "Alright, shirt off."

"Sweetheart, if you want me naked, all you have to do is say so."

She glared at him. "Shut up. You're still in trouble."

He reluctantly rolled up his sleeves.

"Hey, what did I just say? Shirt. Off."

He fidgeted. "Why? You saw the cuts, they're just on my arm."

"You're a horrible liar. I saw your chest last night, Dean. I know you cut there too."

"Maybe I didn't this time." Dean prayed that she wouldn't push it. His stomach was where the worst cut was. He didn't want her to see it.

"I'm not stupid. Take of your shirt. Come on."

He sighed, and grudgingly obeyed. Jo inhaled sharply as she saw what he had been hiding. "Dean…."

The cut was about four inches long, spanning across his abs. Dean cursed himself. He couldn't even say it was an accident. He'd meant to cut that deep. The gashes on his arms were just practice. They would only need a few stitches. This one however…he probably should have gone to a hospital. It had bled for hours.

"You didn't even take care of it. You could have at least put some gauze over the top." Jo's tone was accusing. "I can fit my whole finger in there! Jesus, Dean….any deeper and your guts would be falling out."

"Sorry," He mumbled.

She threaded the needle and began to prepare to stitch him up.

All of a sudden, the door swung open. "Hey, I saw Jo carrying the first aid kit, and-OH!" Ash stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him.

Dean and Jo sat on the edge of the bed, Dean's cuts and scars painfully visible.

Ash walked over. "Man, what did you pick a fight with?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." Dean hurriedly picked up his shirt and tried to hide behind it.

"Don't be a pansy. Let's see what you got." Ash swatted his hands away, but froze when he saw Dean's wrist; dozens of horizontal cuts in a pattern. Straight, deliberate lines which could only mean one thing.

"Uh, Dean-O…you know that's bad right? Like, really bad. They lock people away for shit like that." Ash bit his lip.

"I know." Dean said flatly.

"Shit, man." Ash looked uncomfortable, scratching the back of his head. "If you ever wanna talk about it…you know I'm game."

"Thanks."

"Does Sam know?"

"Unfortunately."

"Hate to break it to you, bud, but that's probably a good thing." He paused. You're not gonna…you know…are you?" He made a gun with his fingers and pretended to blow his brains out.

"Ash!" Jo glared at him. "Could you be more insensitive?"

"Sorry." He shrugged.

Dean winced as Jo cleaned the area around the wound on his stomach, getting ready to sew it shut. "No, Ash. I'm not gonna kill myself."

"Good. Don't know if you noticed, but there's an apocalypse going on. We could sure use your help."

"Yeah."

"And Dean?" Ash licked his lips. "Seriously, don't go checking out on us. You're family, okay? You're like my brother. And Jo is like your little sister…"

He trailed off as both Dean and Jo exchanged glances and burst into laughter. "Oh God, you're not- _you didn't_ ….you did, didn't you?" He seemed both flustered and amused. "Ellen is gonna kick your ass."

"Please don't tell her." Jo begged.

Ash put his hands up. "God, no. She'd probably shoot the messenger." He turned to walk out, but paused. "Please tell me you're using protection. Last thing we need is a baby Winchester."

"Yeah. Wrap it before you tap it, bro." Dean nodded.

"Good. Alright, I'll leave you two to play doctor." He winked, and left.

* * *

Jo was quiet as she stitched up Dean's cuts. He gritted his teeth, letting only small noises of pain escape his lips.

When she was finished, she sat there, running her fingers over his many scars.

"Hey," he said softly.

She looked up, tears in her eyes.

"I'm okay. Please don't worry about me, Jo."

"You're not though! You are so far from okay. Look at this!" She held up his wrist. "You are going to kill yourself!"

"No I'm not."

"You keep saying that, but I don't know anymore."

Dean looked down, not knowing what to say.

"We have something special, Dean. At least, I'd like to think so. You can't leave me, asshole." She tried to smile, but there was a pleading undertone to her voice.

"Come here." Dean kissed her forehead, and gently pulled her onto the bed with him. He wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace.

"I think I love you." Jo blurted out. She bit her lip, looking nervous.

"I love you too." Dean grinned, and nuzzled her neck.

They lay there unmoving for what seemed like forever.

There was love, but there was also so much pain...


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys, this is gonna be a sort of epilogue. My life is about to get really busy. I work from 8-1, then go to school from 1:30 to 9. I'm gonna have zero time to write, which really sucks because I have so many ideas! I will write as I can, when work is slow.**

* * *

*Two months later*

Dean was doing better. Not completely, he still had days where he turned to the blade instead of Jo's loving arms. But she was always there to pick up his broken pieces and nurse his wounds. Sammy was doing better too. His brother was an amazing support.

Ellen had found out about Dean and Jo, and responded as expected.

"Dean Winchester, if you hurt my little girl, I will tan your hide and make a pool table outta you."

But after a brief adjustment period, She became accustomed to the idea. She loved John's boys like sons, why not?

Although the Apocalypse still loomed over their heads, there was a small pocket of sunshine called _family._

* * *

 **Sorry, I know it's really short and it sucks. I'll probably add more later. Keep following me though, I have some really good ideas I'm working on! Ideas include:**

 **SO MUCH MEGSTIEL. (Will probably include self-harm)**

 **A 'What if Sam found out about Dean's suicide attempt" (SPOILERS FOR 11.17)**

 **Deadpool/SPN crossover (Will be rated M because it's fucking Deadpool.**

 **Some Leverage hurt/comfort fics. (Will definitely include self harm)**

 **Stay safe, my loves. Reach out if you need help. I'm always here, I'll give you my phone number if you need to talk.**


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